Thursday, October 2, 2014

(The Moonshae Islands) Panthras' Procuring

It
was not long after when the popular Balder’s Gate tavern returned to the normal
late night rumpus and seaside nightlife. It was Greengrass and all across the
Realms it was a celebration of the Wide Earth’s transition into the Sowing. Balder’s
Gate was teeming with individuals looking for employment on the seas or to aid
in the burgeoning conflict on Moonshae. It
was a time of opportunity.

JeritMcCaugh, a visiting mage from Terra, was the first of his group that picked up on the watcher- a stately
gentleman sitting alone at a stool that provided a vantage to nearly every seat
in the Helm and Cloak. Jerit himself sat at the end of a crescent-shaped corner
table facing the stately gentleman. To Jerit’s right sat Shar Auvrnydar silent
while keeping his origins secret within the cowl of his cloak. Jerit and Shar met only a few years ago
but they were fast friends both with similar goals, personal code and magical
inclinations.

Across
from Jerit and Shar sat Cren Tosh and Harsk also new friends from the past year.
Cren Tosh was a half elf dressed in a golden vest over invisible mithril chainmail; he was
a spell-thief capable of stealing spell effects right out of the air. He and
his colleague were familiar with the Sword Coast legends and myths form Waterdeep south to the Empires of the Sands. It was one of the interesting draws that made Cren Tosh quite likable to Jerit. His Dwarven compatriot Harsk was a discerning bounty hunter who, in combat exploits Cren Tosh’s martial skills by beating down opponents Cren trips up. Ever
since Harsk lost his family during the godsfall five years ago, the dwarf as
devoted his life to bringing death to evil religious zealots and getting paid handsomely for it.

Sitting
in the middle of the group was Meghan Gundwynd. Jerit was instantly captivated
by the woman from the moment he was introduced to her. Meghan’s stern
countenance and dominance was a lure for Jerit; nevertheless he was hesitant in
his actions toward her because he was not sure the depth of Meghan and Shar’s
relationship. Was it intimate? Jerit ached to know.

“Can
I get anyone more ale?” Allie asked looking directly at Harsk. Allie had been adeptly
juggling several tables at once, Harsk admired her diligence.

“Another
round if you please,” Harsk answered for everyone as he reached inside his
beard, presumably for a coin or two.

“This
round is on me,” came a deep educated voice- the voice of the stately man. “If that is I may join the table in its partaking.” A hint of a smile softened
his hard features.

Jerit
noted how Meghan watched the stately man, no- scrutinized the man. Had Meghan
looked at him like that at a time before? The thought sent a warm flush down Jerit’s
spine and into his groin.

“Pull
up a seat,” invited Harsk and as the stately man reached for a chair when Jerit motioned with
his hand, magically pulling up the chair for him.

“Thank you gentlemen, lady; I am Panthras.” Panthras was a pristinely
dressed man with not a trace of an accent in his speech. He carried a
military-issued masterwork long sword that contained a magical crystal and a bandolier of keen edged daggers. As Panthras
sat he produced a merchant symbol emblazoned with the legend Panthras’
Procuring.

Taking up the token examining it Harsk asked, “So what can we do for you
Panthras Procuring?”

After giving the dwarf a sideways look Panthras answered, “I require a band of
adventurers who command a high level of magic and as much experience as possible to
see a shipboard cargo safely to its destination.” Panthras said at length weighing
everyone’s reactions before continuing. “The cargo consists of sixty tarred and
sealed wooden crates, each containing twenty masterwork long swords. The swords
must reach the Lord of Aithe on Alaron.”

“That’s one of the Moonshaes! Absolutely not,” Harsk said Allie brought the round
of drinks. “Take them back! No, wait…” and tossed Allie two gold coins.

“Hold on Harsk,” said Cren Tosh. “How long is the trip?”

As the conversation proceeded Jerit saw Meghan’s reaction to Panthras’ proposal; it was almost the look of
familiarity or was it foreknowledge?

“Eight days though it largely depends on the weather of course.”
Panthras replied as he regarded the quiet drow cautiously. “The seas have been
safe enough of late; the Mermaid Sword is a ship that has made the run to Alaron many times.”

“We will need time to discuss this, what do you offer?” Jerit
asked, the dwarf Harsk nodding in singular agreement across the table.

Composing himself, “I am prepared to offer the five of you a thousand
gold lions each as well as a respectable discount with regards to your
outfitting; and once you arrive, another five thousand lions upon the safe
delivery of the weapons to Aithe Keep.” Panthras replied.

“Can you allow us until the morning Panthras?” Cren Tosh asked looking
to Jerit and Shar who both nodded in agreement, Meghan remaining silent.

“Then accept my hospitality until the morning my new friends!”
Panthras said encouraged.

After the time was agreed upon and Panthras had taken his leave, it
was Meghan who spoke first explaining that she was confident that Panthras was
not lying or misrepresenting himself in any way. Her inquisitor abilities are
formidable, but still Jerit could not escape the look of knowing recognition in
Meghan’s enchanting eyes.

As the night wore on and each member of the crescent table
testified as to their inclination on getting involved in what was sure to be
more than just delivering weapons safely across the sea. In the end it would be
everyone or no one, and no one wanted to be the individual to say no; so they all
resolved to agree to Panthras’ offer.

**************

A few hours later as the sun rose over the far horizon the next morning Shar Auvryndar
and Meghan Gundwynd were situated on the rooftop of the Helm and Cloak. It was
a long habit they shared since before Shar was not yet acclimated to the
surface; they would prepare spells and incantations in the morning while Shar tried to outlast the brightness
of daybreak until he must hide his eyes.

“You felt it too.” Meghan said to Shar after their morning
preparations.

“I did. Do you think the evil we are
looking for is hidden on this ship?” Shar asked Megan, his close friend and spiritual
advisor to Mystra.

“Hidden on the ship or already along
our path, mayhap on the Moonshaes?”

Suddenly Shar’s fingers gestured in the
silent language of the drow: “We are not
alone.”

From an adjacent rooftop stood a slim
distinguished looking, long-bearded man of average height. He wore plain gray
robes and a red cloak, a long, predominantly white beard was tucked jauntily
into his belt.

“I am truly sorry my young friends, I do not mean to interrupt
Lady of Mystra I come in peace. My name is Flamsterd the Gray and I have a stake
in what is happening on the Moonshae’s right now.”

Walking over to the old man, Shar and
Meghan remained on the roof top of the Helm and Cloak; the space of an alleyway
separated the drow and the inquisitor from Flamsterd the Gray. “We will hear
what you have to say.” Shar said revealing his true nature in the early morning
light.

Eyebrows raised Flamsterd weighed his next
words carefully. “Sell-swords, undead, and dark… creatures have been spreading
like an infection since the godsfall, all in the name of the Iron Hand the new Lord of Tyranny and
Domination. Unfortunately Chauntea is no longer the deity she once was; now as the
Earth Mother her faith abhors violence. Many of the her clerics have gone
missing or have retreated into the forests so it is up to those of us capable
to bear arms where her priest hood cannot. I am hoping that your company are capable and
agree to help the Moonshae’s before evil closes its iron hand.”

Later in the Helm and Cloak Panthras stood
explaining to a mostly empty morning feasthall the details of the contract of nepthas including
the cargo, members of the crew,as
well as passengers Jerit McCaugh, Shar and their group.

**************

‘The swords must be safely delivered to
the local lord, Haembar Cauldyth or his successor in the lordship of Cantrev
Aithe, to the best of your honor and abilities.’

“There is more.” Panthras said after
they all signed the agreement. “ but upon my honor, this document contains no
alteration in your agreed task.” Panthras then produced another roll of parchment;
this one was closed with a royal seal. “I must warn you once you have unsealed
this document, I cannot allow you to withdraw from the mission. Consider your
actions carefully.”

At that moment everyone looked to Meghan who unceremoniously took
the sealed scroll without a word, broke the seal, and read it aloud.

“To those who accept the bond of Panthras and with it the
swordguard mission to Aithe: My thanks and my debt. Dark days have come to the
Moonshae Isles again, and we are in need of the strong and the valiant. Be it
known that I personally shall award four thousand pieces of gold, above and beyond
your promised reward, to each adventurer in your band who comes to Caer
Callidyrr and asks for it, assuming the blades arrive safely in the hands of the
Lord of Aithe. I will offer more, at that time, to those among you who will
give us substantial aid against the foes that beset us in the Moonshaes - dark
men skulking behind witless pawns who may try to seize that which I reign over.
Bring this letter to me in Caer Callidyrr, and accept the thanks, welcome, and
hospitality of Tristan Kendrick. High King of the Ffolk.”

“Sounds like there will be new bounties to collect upon!” Harsk
said hopeful as he resolved himself to the short sea voyage. “When do we
leave?”

*******

*******

The Mermaid Sword set
out from Balder’s Gate the next day. The ship was almost seventy feet long and hosted a crew of thirty men and women; even her captain was a woman- a fact Cren Tosh did not fail to notice. Veldyrina Flaenitarr was a former pirate-captain in Luskan’s war with Waterdeep but found the overbearing politics of
the North to her distaste. She then commandeered the Mermaid Sword for a more peaceful, less complicated career on the seas.

Besides providing ample cargo space for the twelve-hundred
masterwork long swords; spices, textiles, as well as brass locks and hinges from
Waterdeep. In addition, Captain Veldyrina has also accommodated several paying passengers.

One, a fat merchant, accompanying his precious stocks of carved ivory,
scents, and liqueurs that come with long tale of their origins; three lovely and lively young high-born ladies who are on their way to visit relatives in the Moonshaes; and finally a strange,
odoriferous homely man returning to the Moonshaes with rare seeds and plants.

*******

*******

On the second night after finishing his last scroll for the day, each mage said they would use the downtime on the Mermaid Sword wisely, Jerit heard a thud outside his room. Simply looking at the door revealed no
results so Jerit got up, closed the distance to the sound, and put his ear to
the door. Consulting his inner clock Jerit thought it sometime after one in the
morning. What was somebody doing up that his hour?

With a snap of a finger Jerit was instantly dressed as his weapon
quickly drifted to his outstretched hand. He opened the door to a dark hall that
still held a trace of woman’s fragrance in the air. Looking around Jerit could
see a faint light coming from the cargo hold.

Subterfuge on the high seas, or one
of the lively young cousins getting into trouble?

Investigating the sound and the light, Jerit came across the first
of the tarred and sealed crates they were responsible for. It was plain and
unadorned but it had been moved. Then a low flat scrape emerged from the far
end of the cargo followed by a female curse. One of the cousins mayhap, then Jerit stopped
short surprised and pleased to find Meghan alone.

“Making certain all is secure?” Jerit asked in a humorous tone. The
look Meghan returned was not one of mirth but something else. Damn but she was hard to read Jerit thought. Meghan had moved one of the crates to
better access others behind it and in the process had caught a splinter.

“There is more going on here than our mission to the Moonshaes Jerit. Shar and I
have been searching for a remnant from the godsfall, a weapon of great evil and
breaker of men.”

“And you think what you and Shar are looking for it is here on this
ship?” Jerit asked without a trace of sarcasm taking her hand gingerly to remove the
splinter.

“If not here then perhaps our destination,” Meghan said yielding to Jerit's touch. “I can detect
its evil, but I have to be close.” As if to demonstrate she cast a divination on the crate she had just
revealed- she could discern no evil within the container of weapons.

“I would very much like to help.” Jerit said as he helped Meghan move
the crate to the side to reveal yet another.

“Good have limited space; the majority of the work will be to shift the cargo around so that I may reach ever crate.” Meghan said. “Sixty crates
and I only have until landfall."

**************

The next night in the cargo hold as Jerit and Meghan moved and sifted crates around Jerit asked, “Shar told me how you two met but not why you travel together, are
you two promised? You and Shar do not seem like typical swashbuckling
adventurers.” Now that it was out in the open Jerit felt much better.

“I am Shar’s spiritual advisor and
friend. Mystra, my goddess, gave me new life so that I may guide and aid Shar in
his years to come.” Meghan said as she cast another divination on
the newest revealed crate.

A few hours later feeling sore and
tired Jerit walked Meghan back to her quarters. “Same time tomorrow…” Meghan’s
kiss stopped any further decipherable words.

**************

"To Arms. We Are Under Attack!”

The middle of the night. It was all Jerit’s internal clock would
say; he and Meghan’s passionate late nights were starting to take a toll. He was
thoroughly tired.

“Meghan! We are…under…” Shar’s words of warning fell silent as the
drow realized Meghan was not sleeping alone. Stunned the drow
did not finish. On the upper deck of the ship crew members were shouting,
screaming, Shar thought he had just heard ‘Man Overboard!’

“For the Realm!” Cren Tosh exclaimed from the hall behind Shar breaking
him from his shock, the billowing shouts from Harsk quickly followed the half
elf’s battle-rant to the deck above.

“Lacedons,” was all Shar could say before he hurriedly left, joining
the attack against the salt water undead.

Feeling oddly embarrassed and ashamed Jerit and Meghan dressed as
quickly possible forgoing armor of any kind and just making themselves decent,
grabbing their weapons and escaping into the hall where they encountered a low vulgar
chanting. It was coming from one of the passenger’s quarters away from the combat. Both Jerit and Meghan exchanged questioning glances.

On the deck above screams accompanied satisfied cries of victory as
Shar, Cren Tosh, Harsk and the crew of the Sword fought off the ghoulish lacedons. Approaching cautiously, pressing their ears to
the door Jerit and Meghan both recognized the necromantic incantations necessary for
summoning undead. Without further hesitation Jerit flung open the door as Meghan bore
down upon the unsuspecting necromancer.

**************

Twenty-four hours later the lacedons were all destroyed and the homely seed
collector/ necromancer Thazstar Rhiynn had been neutralized. Only two of the crew members had
been killed in the undead attack, a fact that did not go unpunished as Meghan
interrogated the necromancer and uncovered a frightening possibility if they did not act.

“Rhiynn gave up all the names of the cult of the Iron Hand called the Risen and their titles for what it’s worth. He does not know much but what he does
is that the cult’s general plan is to seize control of the Moonshae Islands as
a kingdom for their Iron Tyrant but their present goal is to get to the High
King.” Meghan said forlorn. “I surmise the Risen gave Rhiynn a chance to prove his worth
and he obviously failed. He does not know the daily workings of the cult
only that he is to contact a butcher in Aithe named Duskerell Thimbottle, or
failing that, a woodcarver in town named Kantivel Chonn, to report his return
and the fate of the swords.” Meghan explained to everyone including the Captain.

“He will never make it there to report anything unfortunately,” added Captain Veldyrina.
“Tonight Thazstar Rhiynn will walk the plank.”